


Steamed Hams, but it's Dice Funk

by JadeTheThief



Category: Dice Funk Podcast D&D Campaign
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-07 01:04:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18862603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadeTheThief/pseuds/JadeTheThief
Summary: The Steamed Hams meme was a big deal in early season 4 of Dice Funk, and I adapted it





	Steamed Hams, but it's Dice Funk

The doorbell to Ed's small, first floor, single person apartment chirped. Gently pushing his cat, Marti, off of his lap, he rose from his sofa and opened the door. A white-skinned dragonborn dressed in a sharp suit stood there, looking at him expectantly.

“Well, Ed, I made it.” He grumbled. “Despite your directions.”

“Ah, Detective Graves! Welcome!” Ed opened the door the rest of the way, stepping back to gesture the dragonborn inside. “I hope you're prepared for an unforgettable luncheon!”

Graves grunted and eased past him, walking inside and taking a seat at the table, bottle of wine clinking as he set it down. Grinning, a skip in his step, Ed stepped around the table and entered the kitchen. 

He gasped.

Smoke poured out of his oven, the remains of what was to be a delicious steamed ham dinner. “Egads!” Ed exclaimed, dashing over to the ham, watching it sizzle and pop. “My roast is ruined!”

A flicker of light caught his eye as he looked out the window. The green and orange neon of a Tusky Burgers, just across the street. “But what if...” he mused. “I were to purchase fast food and disguise it as my own cooking?” He chuckled, rubbing his palms together. “Delightfully devilish, Ed!”

Carefully, he cracked the window open, lifting a leg to make his stealthy exit. Just then, the door opened as Graves looked inside. The dragonborn grunted, eyes narrowing as he watched Ed with suspicion. 

“DETECTIVE!” Ed exclaimed, stepping back and gesturing frantically. “I was just stretching my calves on the windowsill! Isometric exercise! Care to join me?” He lifted a leg and started doing stretches.

Graves frowned and pointed at the rising black clouds. “Why is there smoke coming out of your oven, Ed?”

Ed's head jerked toward the oven and his eyes quickly flicked back to Graves. “Oh, that isn't smoke... it's steam!” He grinned quickly. “Steam from the steamed clams we're having! Mmmmm!” He rubbed his stomach. “Steamed clams!”

Graves' lip twisted in a confused frown, but he turned and left. Wiping his brow with relief, Ed quickly hopped out of the window and ran over to Tusky Burger.

A few minutes later, Ed pushed through the kitchen door, carrying a platter of hamburgers and setting them down on the table. “Detective, I hope you're ready for mouth-watering hamburgers!”

Graves tucked a napkin into his collar. “I thought we were having 'steamed clams,'” he spoke, unamused.

“Oh, no, I said 'steamed hams'!” Ed lied. “That's what I call hamburgers!”

Graves stared at him. “You call hamburgers 'steamed hams'?”

“Yes!” Ed grinned. “It's a regional dialect.”

“Uh-huh.” Graves snorted. “What region?”

“Umm... North Valentine?”

“Really?” Graves sneered. “Well, I'm from Blashfield and I've never heard anyone use the phrase 'steamed hams.'”

“Oh, not in Blashfield, no.” Ed replied quickly, naturally. “It's an Itchikoo expression.”

“I see...” Graves nodded, reaching for his hamburger and taking a bite. He chewed it thoughtfully, stopping to lift the bun and look at the patty. “You know...” he mused. “These hamburgers are quite similar to the ones they have at Tusky Burger.”

Ed chuckled. “No, patented Eddi Burgers! Old family recipe!”

“...For steamed hams.” Graves replied skeptically.

“Yes!” Ed beamed.

“Yes, and you call them 'steamed hams' even though they're obviously grilled.” Graves tilted the bun so Ed could see the patty, charred with black lines.

Ed stuttered, eyes darting around the room frantically. “I... uhh...” He pushed his chair back, walking backwards toward the kitchen. “Excuse me for a sec.”

“Of course.” Graves watched him go, chewing his burger methodically.

Ed ducked back into the kitchen, now ablaze, then stepped back out, stretching his arms and faking a yawn. “Well, that was wonderful, good time was had by all, I'm pooped!” he spoke quickly, hoping to convince the dragonborn to leave.

Graves glanced at his watch and shrugged. “Yes, I should be--” he stood up, startled as he saw flecks of flame escaping the doorway. “GOOD LORD what is happening in there??”

“Guilt's Rainbow Barrier?” Ed lied quickly.

“Guilt's Rainbow Barrier??” Graves sputtered. “At this time in history? In this part of the world? Localized Entirely Within Your Kitchen??”

“Yes.” Ed replied.

Graves stared at him, baffled. “...May I see it?”

Ed thought for a moment. “...No.”

As Ed escorted Detective Graves out the door, he could hear Marti mewing at him frantically. “No, Marti, it's just Guilt's barrier!” he called back to the panicked cat.

Graves grunted as he straightened his suit and tightened his belt. “Well, Ed, you are an odd fellow, but I must say, you steam a good ham.”

Ed smiled and waved as the detective walked away, ignoring Marti's frantic cries and the crackling of flames spreading through his apartment.


End file.
